things which are precious: siobhan's sacrifice
by PREttYPAIN
Summary: Siobhan is one of the few Summer Girls named in Wicked Lovely. What is her background? Why did she persuade Aislinn to "choose happiness"? Did she choose her own happiness? Story about Siobhan before she was a Summer Girl. Part of Series.
1. Prologue

_I loove Siobhan :D She intrigues me. So I created a fictional story about how she became a Summer Girl and who she was before that. Hope you all like!_

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_Prologue_

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The girl was standing on the hills, her hair whipping about her face in long tendrils of auburn. She was slender and tall for a girl her age, which looked to be no older than nineteen. Her cream colored gown whipped about her legs, and he could see the form of them, long and lean. She was beautiful. _And mine._

He walked closer to her, his invisible form standing just beside her unknowing body. He studied her face as she gazed at the land below her, a vast scenery of green. Her eyes were warm and yet wild with freedom, a sign Keenan told himself was why he had dreamt of her. _She must be her._

Suddenly the girl sighed, her eyes closing as she breathed in the crisp morning air. Keenan noted the long lashes that rested against her cheek gently. He hesitantly stroked her face, as if she would break if he pressed too hard. She opened her eyes and looked around, an expression of confusion on her face. But she saw no one and turned away, heading back toward the path and the old manor that was her home.

_Soon, _Keenan thought as he watched her walk away, _Soon._

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_Reviews, anyone? ;p_


	2. Chapter One

_Well, here's another chapter. _

_DC: WL or its characters do not belong to me, but I can do what I want with them ;p_

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**_one_**

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_"Boxty on the griddle, b__oxty in the pan, i__f you cannot make boxty, y__ou'll never get a man." _Two girlish voices drifted down the halls of the large manor.

A woman sighed in the next room, grabbing the garmets that lay strewn about. "Girls, keep your voices down, would you please? The baby is trying to sleep."

"Sorry Mamai." The two girls laughed silenty, continuing their hand game even as their mother entered the room.

They were not close in age, but they were close in spirit. The dark haired girl was small, even for her age of twelve. But her older sister beside her was a good height at eighteen, her long auburn hair braided down her back until it reached a little below her hips. They were both in their nightgowns, sleep still in their eyes as they sat on their beds.

"And in case you never get out of your beds, I was to remind you that St. John's is in three days time." The older woman folded a nightgown neatly and placed it on the reading chair nearby.

They looked at their mother who stood a few feet away, clothes in her arms. She was a handsome woman, even after all the things she went through in her life. Her fine hair was swept into a loose bun and her grey eyes were warm.

"Ach, yes! I nearly forgot." Evelyn exclaimed, running her fingers through her dark waves.

Siobhan only smiled. "You'd forget the sky was blue if no one was there to tell you."

Evelyn tossed a pillow at her sister. "Ha. You're quite the wit."

"And proud of it." Siobhan got up, tossing her head with over-exaggerated cheekiness.

Her mother only rolled her eyes. "People always tell me what spirited daughters I have, but I never believe them."

Siobhan took the gowns from her mother and tossed them on the bed. "You _refuse_ to believe them." She hugged the older woman. "But little Aiden shall grow up to be a proper gentlemen, won't he now?"

"If his sisters don't grow up like highland savages, but proper ladies."

"Ach, but no!" Siobhan pulled back with laughing eyes. "It's not our fault we were born with the true blood of Brian Boru in our veins. A true savage highlander I am."

Evelyn stood proudly beside her sister, always following lead. "Me too."

But their mother only pinched their cheeks. "With the added blood of English propriety."

Siobhan grimaced. "You always have to ruin it."

"A fine way to be proud of your blood. Wait 'til your father hears."

"Oh, Mamai, I was not serious. It's not your fault you married an Englishman." Siobhan added wistfully, thinking of her tall handsome father, a true English lord who had fallen in love with the young Nola as he was visiting Ireland. It was a romantic story Siobhan never tired of.

Nola laughed at her eldest daughter, and shook her head. "No, I suppose I really did have no choice. Love is blind."

Siobhan pulled her chemise over her head and began dressing. "People always say that."

"You'll understand one day." Nola left the room then, smiling still.

Evelyn turned to help Siobhan with her lacings, pulling tightly until Siobhan almost choked. She hated the cursed things, but her mother had placed them on her bed the morning of her fifteenth birthday. _To maintain your womanly shape,_ she had said. Siobhan hardly knew she even had a womanly shape.

"Are you trying to kill me, then?"

"Sorry." Evelyn answered meekly. "Anyways, Mamai says if you ever hoped to find a husband you must not be so forward. If I tighten this enough, you'll be too busy trying to breath that you won't speak so improper."

Siobhan elbowed her. "And if you do, I'll box your ears some."

Evelyn giggled. "Midsummer's Night is close at hand, you'll need a waist for a faery man." She sing-songed as she skipped out of the room.

Siobhan was taken-aback at her sisters impromptu rhyme. She darted after her, forgetting to pin up her hair. "You sneak, where did you ever learn that?"

Their manor was in fact an old, large castle built around the late medieval period. It was a bit worn and cold, but Siobhan could only think of it with fond memories and a warm heart. It was where she had grew up. As she glided down the stairs she met her mother, who laughed at her daughter.

"There's my colleen, now. Wandering off to meet a boy, are you?" Nola tugged a strand of Siobhan's loose hair.

Siobhan blushed at her mothers teasing. "I'm off for a walk, Mamai. I'll be back before breakfast."

"You stay close, now. No gallivanting about. And remember Siobhan; no proper young lady gives kisses freely."

"Of course, Mamai." Siobhan smiled, laughing despite herself.

She sprinted away then, out the courtyard and down the dirt path to the green highlands where the mist of morning roamed freely. She tugged at her braid until it fell away, and she shook her hair laughingly. It was a fine morning, and she ran until she reached the top of her favorite hill, breathless and gazing at the land beneath her. It was beautiful and free. Her home.

Never had she once thought of leaving Ireland, as her mother had. She had heard the stories. How free-spirited and wild her mother had once been. At sixteen she had met the young English lord who's family owned the nearest castle. Nola's family had been of old Irish blood, as blue as the English blood of her father's. But when he had brought her back to England as his bride, his parents had looked down on her. And so she had come back to Ireland, missing it's hills and mists.

_No man can ever make me leave Ireland. _She thought. _No matter what._

"Breathtaking, is it not?"

Siobhan whirled around to see who had spoken and caught her breath. His eyes were like rays of sunlight, gold and amber. He had a regal, handsome face. The sun sent shimmers of golden flecks through his already golden hair. And he smiled at her warmly.

_Breathtaking, is it not?_

"Yes." She breathed.

"A bit cold to be out so early, miss."

Siobhan steadied her breathing. "It's perfect."

He was standing below her on the hill, dressed in riding breeches and a fine silk hat. She now noticed the brilliant horse a few feet away. _He must be a fine gentlemen, and he sounds like an Englishman._

He saw her looking. "I was out for a morning ride when I saw you running. I thought maybe something was amiss. You are indeed, well?"

Siobhan could feel the flash of warmth pass over her face. "Oh yes! I was simply…eager to take a walk."

_You sound like a highland fool._ She scolded herself. _A scruffy, foolish, Irish girl._

The young man smiled even more, a curious expression on his face. It was lovely and she couldn't help but smile back.

"I hope you do not think me too forward." He walked up to her. "But as I am visiting here, I should like to know the townsfolk."

He extended a gentle bow and hand. "My name is Keenan."

Siobhan hesitated. It was a proper introduction at an improper place. And he had not mentioned his full name or where he was visiting from. But his eyes danced with merriment and Siobhan discarded all doubts.

She took his hand. "I am Siobhan Danneville."

He brought her hand to his lips. "I'm pleased I decided to chase you, Miss Danneville. It has certainly made for a very pleasant meeting."

Siobhan knew her cheeks were flaming as she stood there with her mane of wild hair, but she somehow felt vibrant and alive.

_Keenan. A perfect name for a perfect creature._

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_And so ends chapter one. Be updating soon peeps!(:_


	3. Chapter Two

_I have been slow on all my stories, but I'm picking up. I'm sorry. =( _

_Life is hectic right now. _

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_**Two**_

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The two girls strolled through the outskirts of town leisurely, plucking flowers as they went to make a bouquet. It was a bright day, with the breeze gently blowing stray hairs across their cheeks. They waved cheerily to the neighbors they passed.

"I can't believe you spoke to him, Siobhan." The red-head turned to her friend, a grin on her face. "Of all people, _he _happened to walk upon you!"

Siobhan eyed her companion. "It was just a stroke of chance, Pegeen. How was I to know who he was?"

It had been a whole day since Siobhan had bid a hasty farewell to the gentleman Keenan, politely refusing his escort back because she didn't want to explain the stranger to her mother. But his face still remained in her mind and she had practically bombarded her friend the next morning with details. It was quite a shock to learn that not only had Pegeen known who he was, but had seen him arrive in town with his companions, wealthy English lords and ladies.

"Keenan Thorpe. I hear he's a relative of the Queen." Pegeen squealed, tugging her friend along the road. "And those friends of his are absolutely dashing! Though I have to say, my father would not be happy that a relation to the Queen is stepping foot on his dear land."

"Do you know why their visiting Ireland?" Siobhan asked instead, always ready to change the subject of Pegeen's proud Irish clan and their disdain for anything English. It was a strain enough on their friendship. Pegeen's father had been against their friendship from the start. Eventually he accepted Siobhan, mostly because her English-born father loved Ireland as his own. It didn't stop her from feeling anxious about bringing up such things, however.

"I heard they wanted to look upon some estates. Must be quite rich too. I heard they all already had estates in England; a country estate and a town manor."

They neared the edge of town, picking up their skirts as they stepped over a muddy section of the road. It had rained a good amount the night before, and the smell hung in the air. It was a good sign. A farmer's one true hope in a time when they needed it most.

Siobhan looked at a nearby man, bending down to inspect his garden. The flowers looked ripe and beautiful.

"If only the crops would be half as obliging." Siobhan sighed, casting her eyes down at the flowers in her own hands. "Papa says it's getting worse. I wonder why this Keenan Thorpe and his friends would commit to a land that is dying."

"This land is not dying, Siobhan Danneville so you take that back!" Pegeen stood her arms on her hips, her green eyes suddenly bright. "The crops will pick up, people will not give up and you shouldn't either. Call yourself Irish, well I'd like to see you act like it."

Siobhan stared at her childhood friend, noticing not for the first time, that she looked exactly like her father. The proud set of her lips, the fire in her green eyes as her orange-red hair framed a strong face. This was what she had been her whole life and Siobhan felt her heart twinge in knowledge that she could never be as strong or fearless.

"I haven't given up hope, Pegeen." She added quietly. "But I wish hope hadn't given up on us."

She looked to the road that stretched far along the hills leading to the city, more hills, and then beyond to Belfast. It was difficult to imagine that her home was suffering. "More and more farmers are troubled by this lack of potatoes, Pegeen. I can't help but think there is nothing we can do. If we hold fast though, I know it will change."

Pegeen smiled. "It will, Siobhan. In time, everything gets better."

Just then a carriage came trotting along the road and the girls jumped back to let it through. They dropped their flowers in the process and the carriage slowed. It was a pretty cabby, expensive looking too.

"Ho! Slow down, driver!" A voice called as the carriage stopped a few feet away.

Siobhan could see two gentlemen inside and the soft green of a lady's plume hat. The voice sounded very familiar. _I know exactly who it is. _She thought anxiously, trying to steady her hammering heart. It made no sense to feel this way, not when she had only met him once. None of the boys she knew made her feel so on edge.

"Oh my, Siobhan, it's _them_." Pegeen whispered, tugging her friend's arm.

Stepping down from the carriage, in fine clothes and a tall hat, was him. _Keenan._ Siobhan could feel her heart pounding a million different strokes in her chest, her mind in a haze. She had never felt so off guard or alert. _So confused._

"I'm terribly sorry…" He trailed off as he caught sight of Siobhan. "Why, it's you. Miss Danneville."

Pegeen nudged her, urging her to speak but Siobhan could only nod. The way he said her name...It was as if he knew her. He came closer, smiling in a friendly manner, as if bumping into old friends.

"We're horribly sorry about frightening you. Honestly, our driver is a bit old, and well his sight is not as it once was. I suppose we should look into finding another, but he's been with us for so long."

Pegeen laughed behind her mouth. _Girlish, dainty. And what you should be doing._ Siobhan finally caught herself.

She smiled at him politely. "It is no trouble. We're perfectly used to the untamed ways of Ireland, so a horse and buggy frighten us not. Even so I suggest you keep an eye out, sir." Pegeen's eyes widened, and she glanced at Siobhan. _Perhaps I was too forward. Pegeen seems to be dying of shock._

Keenan however chuckled, his eyes filled with amusement. "Well I am sorry for the inconvenience to you and your companion."

"Oh yes!" Siobhan exclaimed, forgetting even the most basic of etiquette. "This is Miss Pegeen Flannery, daughter of Eoghan Flannery."

"It is a pleasure, Miss Flannery, daughter of Eoghan Flannery." Keenan bowed gracefully, extending his arm.

"Keenan." The lady with the green plume hat turned in her seat and called softly.

The young man glanced back at his friends and then turned his attention once more on the girls. "I beg you to forgive my forwardness, but seeing as we are just on our way to the place we are staying, I feel it would be only our duty as good Christians to offer you a ride to your estate. It is not so far from our own I have heard."

Siobhan could not speak, much less reply. Those warm eyes held hers and she found herself feeling immobile. It was as if he had just circled her and studied her to no end, but it wasn't an unpleasant feeling.

It was Pegeen who answered.

"Well, Sir. I feel it is only our Catholic duty to accept your kind offer."

They both chuckled merrily and Pegeen had to tug Siobhan along to the carriage, where the two others waited patiently. The man was young, perhaps a bit older than Keenan, with dark hair and a strong face. He was handsome in a rugged way.

Siobhan glanced at the woman, her polite smile faltering a bit when she met the striking blue eyes of the lady in the hat. Her midnight black hair was swept into a chignon at the base of her neck in intricate swirls, and she had a choker of lace at her pale throat. She had a small distant smile on her face, her cheeks pink and lips as red as the wild thymes Siobhan picked in the fields.

"This is my dear old friend Mr. Niall Williamson and his cousin Miss Evangeline Gainsborough." Keenan introduced the young man and woman inside. The girls were introduced as well and were politely received. Siobhan was seated opposite Keenan and beside Miss Evangeline. She could feel excitement pouring off of Pegeen as she took a seat beside her and opposite Mr. Williamson. He smiled warmly at her.

"Well, now let us be off, Clarkson." Keenan addressed the older driver. "We wouldn't want to keep the ladies waiting."

As they drove, making light conversation, mostly between Keenan, Mr. Williamson and Pegeen, Siobhan could feel Miss Evangeline eyeing her.

"I suppose you have never been to England, Miss Danneville?"

Siobhan turned to Keenan, slightly startled. "Well, once when I was very small. I do not remember much. Only that it was very cold. And grey."

"Ah yes, the famous bleak weather of my home. It's not so green in London, but in the countryside it is beautiful. Quite like here."

_I highly doubt it._

"I very much enjoy this land." Mr. Williamson mused, a glint in his eyes. "It conjures up old sorts of old tales and legends. Makes me feel as if magic dwelt within every hillside. I almost feel a part of it."

Pegeen laughed softly. "Ah, but of course there is plenty of magic here, Sir. Why, my grandmother swears by the life of her that she had seen one of the fair folk when she was a wee girl."

The three English gentiles looked at her, as if she had spoken another language. _I suppose we are strange to them. With our customs and stories._

"You mean faeres, Miss Flannery?" It was Miss Evangeline who spoke. Her voice was soft, but Siobhan couldn't help wondering why it sounded somewhat hard. As if she was trying to sound polite.

Pegeen didn't notice however and she continued gaily. "Ach yes. All sorts of wonderful creatures roam these hills, did you not know?"

The young men laughed as well, but Siobhan felt the stiffness of Miss Evangeline and how her gloved hands gripped the folds of her skirts. She glanced at Siobhan, her expression changing to bemusement and she smiled.

"We are fascinated by folklore very much, Miss Flannery. In fact it is one of the reasons we love Ireland." Keenan replied, eyeing Miss Evangeline. He seemed to be assessing her, as if she acted in a displeasing way and needed a reminder. "The old history is simply so fascinating. We're very much excited for Midsummer's Night fast approaching."

"Yes." Siobhan managed, looking at the Flannery estate coming into view. "It is a festive event you would never want to miss."

As they rode into the lane, Siobhan was caught by Keenan's intense gaze. His eyes had seemed to change color in the sun, with honey flecked dots circling the gold.

"We shan't miss it for the world." He added softly.

The girls made their way out of the carriage and thanked their newfound friends, saying they hoped to see them at the town's Midsummers festival. The visiting young people promised they'd be there and drove off with Siobhan's heart still hammering away as she walked beside Pegeen towards the large manor. She glanced back at the carriage and blinked.

Because she thought she saw the beautiful Miss Evangeline with odd marks upon her fair skin.

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_hope it's not too slow, but I'm building momentum. Or trying to...=P_

_reviews are love and we need more love in this world =D_


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